Watching Him Back 4.3

Brought to you by Saturday's winner, Luz.

For the second time in one day I have Crispin's hard cock in my hand. Crispin's breath mingles with mine, blowing hot over my neck. His hand is wrapped tightly around my dick, moving in time with my hand on his.

I felt like a fucking rock star when I saw him waiting by my car. He looked so self-conscious, glancing nervously at every person who walked by. All I said to him was, “Hey,” and unlocked the car, and then Crispin chewed his lip and shrank in his seat until we reached my neighborhood. Given how he jumped when I reached for his hand as soon as the car was in drive, I think he was as worried for me and my reputation as what people would think of him. Maybe that’s a weird trigger, but it turned me the fuck on.

Now it’s easier to make him come. There’s lube, there’s mood music, we’re on a couch instead of a bathroom stall, and that half hour of dry humping and making out wound him up. With his usual silence Crispin shudders and spills onto my fist, and I’m not far behind.

Today has turned out to be a very good day.

"Is this why you wanted me to come over earlier?" Crispin asks as he gets up.

"Not really." I accept the washcloth he hands me. The guy is so fucking thoughtful it puts me to shame.

"What was up with you yesterday?" His tone is carefully casual, but he glances quickly at me from the corner of his eye. Crispin knows he won't get a satisfying answer from me, but he at least asks and means it. I like him better for it.

"My family is a bunch of dicks sometimes,” I say with a shrug, pulling my underwear back on. “My dad, I think, is getting suspicious.”

The frown on Crispin’s face, if I address it, could open up a whole new can of worms. So I poke him in the forehead. Crispin pokes me back, and in another second we’re wrestling all over the floor. I’m bigger and had three years of mediocre wrestling in middle school, but Crispin is pure muscle and deadly. When I tap out the second time he only has the chance to sit up before I pick him up and throw him on the bed. He bounces, flailing comically, and I dive after him.

“Unfair!” he laughs when I tackle him. “You said you would quit doing that!”

Fending of a pillow, I correct him. “No, you told me to quit doing that, and I said I would if you wrote my English paper for me.”

“Do your own work, stupid,” he retorts, trying to smother me in the blanket. My witty reply is cut short by getting jabbed in the Adam’s apple. It’s all fun and games until someone can’t breathe or gets hit in the nuts.

“Sorry, sorry!” Crispin says, flopping down beside me as I wheeze. “You okay?”

I nod and kick him in the butt, hacking for effect. I’m not all that injured, but I like messing with him. There’s a pillow on the floor within reach. A quick grab, a smack to Crispin’s face, and it’s under my head.

“Jerk,” he grumbles, but the smile betrays him.

“So tell me,” I say, pulling him close, “did you catch shit for being late to class?”

Crispin shakes his head. “I get the impression that Mr. Rojas thinks I was getting bullied, but was ashamed to say anything. He encouraged me to talk to him anytime if ‘things get tough.’”

“Oops.”

“Yeah. And speaking of, guess who couldn’t stop talking about you in Calculus?”

I roll my eyes. “Damn it.”

“Yup, your gallantry at lunch has thrown you into full crush territory for Shauna Marie Oldman,” Crispin informs me, trying and failing to sound sympathetic.

“Her middle name is Marie?”

“Not the point.”

Covering my face with my arms I sigh loudly. "Oh, my life, my life. Why must this be my life?"

Crispin commiserates with a condescending pat on the head."Poor baby. However, you did kind of have it coming to you."

"I did not." I drop my arms to glare at him.

“Between covering her work in class and defending her honor today…” Crispin trails off, looking pensive. “Maybe you should date.”

“Fuck!” I groan as he laughs. “Why do girls take me being nice for liking them? Dumb.”

Crispin pinches my side. “Don’t be such a woman-hater.”

“I’m not,” I protest. “I just don’t like anybody.”

“Not true. You like Carter, LeAndre, Jay; you’re always talking bad about girls.”

I roll to face him. “Because all your friends are girls, except for that shithead Preston, and I don’t like your friends any more than you like mine.”

“Your friends are entitled, elitist assholes,” Crispin's responds sharply.

“And yours are self-righteous, self-pitying losers.”

His mouth tightens for a moment. “Seriously, what is your deal?”

Okay, I'm being mean. “I told you: my family is getting to me.” It's not quite an apology, and I can tell from the way he screws up his mouth even further that Crispin is very aware of that.

“Well, you don’t have to be a complete jerk about the people who are closest to me. And you did wink at Shauna from across the cafeteria. A million people saw it."

"Then tell them I was playing along with Jay and them."

Now he laughs at me. "Too late! You winked at a table full of girls. Girls catch all those subtle things real quick, buddy. And now," he continues over my groaning, "Shauna has confirmation that she wasn't just making things up and that you totally have a secret crush on her. They analyzed pretty much all of you two's interactions. All within my hearing, I might add, which sucked."

I chuckle a little at that, but this still bothers me. "Hey," I suddenly say as I prop my head up on the pillow. "Who are you taking to prom?"

Crispin rolls his dark eyes. "Jenny Gray, who else?"

One of his antisocial girlfriends. "Do you hang out with her because you like her, or because she's another social outcast?"

"Both. Next question."

"What are you doing after prom?"

"Harry Potter marathon at Allison Barnhart’s."

"Want to skip your nerd gathering and hang out with me?"

He grins hugely but buries his face in a pillow to hide it. Fucking adorable. "What about your friends?" he asks, peering at me with one eye.

"LeAndre's folks rented out a couple of hotel rooms, so everyone is going there. It'll be really lame. I'd ditch them for you,” I swear grandly. I mean it.

Crispin looks contemplative for a moment, and I know he's a little irritated that I didn't offer to take him along to the popular kid party. I would counter with the fact that he didn't invite me to his thing, either—who doesn't like Harry Potter?—but it's easier not to have the argument.

Finally Crispin says, "Allison has booze."

"I have booze right now."

"They're going to be so suspicious."

I nudge him in the side. "Quit making excuses. Do you want to spend prom night over here or not?"

"Yeah, but how are you going to explain it to your parents?"

That’s the main issue, isn’t it. "My parents? I'll think of some bro-dude reasoning, like we chose to play video games instead of get drunk and irresponsible with our hooligan friends."

Crispin smiles. "How noble of us."

"I know. And then we're going to lose our virginities all over again," I reply, clasping my hands to my chest dramatically.

"You mean, you'll let me, you know, top?"

Wow. That wasn't really what I had meant, so I try to avoid answering. "Do you want to?"

"Duh." Crispin gives me a look. "Just because I'm not as butch as you doesn't make me a permanent bottom."

My little sphincter clenches nervously, but, “I'll do it," I say, feeling like this could be a huge mistake.

"You're gonna love it," he promises with a kiss to my forehead, "and I'll practice my technique on Preston first."

"You will not," I retort,  reaching under him to twist his nipple. Crispin attacks me with a pillow again.  Tension successfully diffused, I defend myself until Mom calls us for dinner, and try not to think about to what I just committed.